To Build a Home
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: Building a home takes time, requires hopes and faith to win upon regrets WK fic.
1. Prologue

"**And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust"**

**The Cinematic Orchestra, To Build a Home**

**Chapter one – prologue**

The only difference was the gray of the sky, as if the darkness of her life had suddenly made it up to the clouds and embraced them of its cold monochrome of light. The rain fell down in silence along the windows just like the tears that came to die at the corner of her lips by night. She still cried; alone in a bed that rocked her to endless hours of insomnia. The pain hadn't gone away. As a matter of fact, it was burning harshly on her heart and kept on weighing; oppressed her mind.

**You made a choice.**

**Deal with that.**

Two days had already passed by during which she hadn't left the suite. Huddled on an ancient armchair she had observed the traffic in the street below. The world hadn't stopped, not even slowed down for a tiny second and if it might have sounded normal, she found it terribly unfair proving her one more time that at the end, she was a mere detail in life. Nothing else.

What pushed her to grab a trench coat and an umbrella on the third day will probably remain unknown even long after she will have died for it belonging to the blurry rules that define one's existence. Fate or coincidence it would nonetheless lead to the same then settle down the rest of her life.

The street noises took her aback and the icy breeze slid down her spine as she found herself outside on the sidewalk. The world looked too real and insecure all of a sudden. Within forty-eight hours she had grown accustomed to the stuffy atmosphere of the hotel suite, the crackling in the fireplace and the odd sensation that nothing bad would ever happen again as long as she remained aside, passive. But she had crossed the lines as if succumbing to whatever life was supposed to bring even though it would be bad.

The lack of definite plans made her panic as a sight-seeing bus passed down the street and took her out of her daydreams. She was in a foreign country without the slightest reference to stick to except a few memories she desperately tried to run away from. In vain.

"Are you in need of a taxi, miss?"

**I am in need of him.**

**Of a new beginning.**

Shaking her head to the hotel bellhop, she slowly went down the cobblestone street and made it back to the world in the most utter indifference. The castle she could observe from the windows of her suite up on the third floor had now disappeared behind the buildings and while looking for it, she found herself facing the gray clouds, the silent rain of Edinburgh that seemed to match so well her life. She had never liked irony, mostly because it hurt even more than needed.

Her legs began to shake as she reached the corner of the street. Unable to sit down on a bench under the rain, she pushed the doors of a pub instead and stepped in. Too absorbed in a match of rugby the locals barely paid attention to her as she ordered a pint and went to a table by the fireplace. She should have taken a book, something to keep her busy. Then she wouldn't have had to drown herself in beer.

...

"Will you ever stop this? I didn't take you here so you could make a fool of yourself in public!"

As a matter of fact, nobody had noticed that she had got drunk but Stanley. Years of experience and he couldn't stand it anymore. It had happened one day. His angry voice had hit the air and taken her aback but from then on whenever she had too many drinks, they always argued. If he advanced the idea that it made him feel ashamed, deep inside she knew that his anger actually came from the frustration to live a failed marriage. That's why she didn't insist and preferred to remain quiet instead.

**I can't blame him for my own mistakes.**

**They are mine, will always be.**

"Are you hungry? I am sure that you haven't eaten anything."

For a few seconds she considered his words and came to the realization that she had indeed skipped any meal, one more time. It just hadn't crossed her mind. Cars had been passing in the street all morning till she had made it to the pub and lost herself in pints.

"I have forgotten to eat."

Her remark made him scoff and as a perplexed laugh played on his lips, she stared at him blankly. She was a failure. Stanley might not have said it out loud but the sentiment appeared clearly enough in his reactions and before it, she felt like nothing but to apologize quietly. In her mind.

"How can one forget to eat? It is vital, not optional. Go change and I will order you something to have in your suite."

Stilettos in hand she stood up and headed to the bathroom but suddenly stopped then turned around to look at her husband intensely.

"And breathing?"

She was slurring the words in a hoarse, tired voice. Eyes fixed on the menu, Stan frowned and sighed loudly.

"What breathing?"

She let go of her shoes and swallowed hard. The question was too loud in her head. She felt sick, dizzy. Perhaps she had had too many beers.

"Is it vital too or just an option? I wish I could stop breathing. After all, it did. It did, you know... It did stop breathing."

Stanley shook his head, convinced she was too intoxicated now to even come up with a comment that would make sense. But instead of an angry tone, his voice sounded soft suddenly. Soft and sorry.

"Go change, Karen. You are tired and need to eat."


	2. When We Are Two

**Chapter two – When We Are Two**

The room hadn't plunged into the blurry vapors of alcohol yet but her body seemed to be lighter as if her problems had ceased to exist when her lips had brushed the beer. She had started drinking again in spite of Stan's anger the evening before; unless he had simply been sad but unable to say it properly. It was always the same anyway and what had ruined their marriage in the first place: a complete absence of trust and a severe lack of communication. It couldn't work.

Besides, alcohol was a nice companion when all you wanted to do was to forget a couple of things. Of course she knew that the blackout would be temporary but after a few trials and a dozen of failures she had come to the conclusion that a handful of seconds in a life was still better than nothing. A pint after another she was slowly leaving her mind, settled on the armchair by the fireplace while the same locals as the day before were still absorbed in a rugby game.

She had lost count of the hours spent at the pub when the doors suddenly opened and let the pale light of the day pierced in. Gray clouds might have been reigning over the sky one more time and hiding the sun with strength, she nonetheless squinted then took another sip of her beer. For a few seconds, Karen assumed that she was having some sort of hallucination caused by alcohol and fatigue but as the doors got closed back and the new customer turned around to look at her properly, her doubts flew away.

If perplexity was spinning in her head, she didn't show it and simply stared into the well-known brown eyes with what she hoped looked like cold anger. He had no right to come here, to cross the ocean and increase the pain that was pressing on her heart. She nonetheless let him approach her table restraining the antithetical urge to rush into his arms.

**We were two in all this.**

**You and I.**

He looked tired. Obviously jet lagged and remorseful as well even if she was the only one who could know about this part. As she looked down at his hands, she realized that he was holding an umbrella lent by the hotel she was staying at. From all the places Edinburgh offered, Will had had to go for The Balmoral. Cruel irony of life.

"What are you doing here?"

"Stanley required me for the signature of some contracts. And for you, because he is worried."

She laughed too loudly and the few locals at the counter turned around to stare at her with perplexity. Nobody insisted though and soon enough she found back a semblance of intimacy in her conversation with Will.

"Since when do you care about my husband's well-being? Don't tell me that you have forgotten that a mere couple of months ago you were still..."

"Stop."

The cold tone of his voice took her aback and for a few seconds she remained silent, unsure whether it had to stop or continue. She had never ignored the fact that in all this story, she wasn't the only one to suffer in silence. She knew that Will had been hurt as well but in spite of all, she couldn't help it. As if he deserved to be treated badly when he didn't.

"I thought that you had drawn a line under all this drinking, besides."

"That was before I lost any reason to do so."

Her vision got blurry, not because of alcohol but tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes and quietly forced their way out. As much as she didn't want to cry in public, Will was the only one to understand the reason of her sadness. Besides it was dark in the pub and the loud sound of the television stifled her sobs to an utter perfection.

**I wish we had gone through it better.**

**And together instead of drifting apart as we did.**

Behind the veil of silent tears, she saw his hand come closer to her body. His gesture was slow, looked sweet enough and for a moment she decided to let him do but as the last inches disappeared, she pushed him away violently.

"Don't touch it! Don't touch me."

Her lips were shaking of anger, and pain as well probably. She felt guilty for hurting him like this when he didn't deserve it but all the rest weighed a lot more at the end. All these things she had gone through, because of him. For him.

"I am sorry."

She didn't gulp down the last sip of her beer. The air became oppressive and all of a sudden she felt too sick, dizzy. She hadn't had too much of a drink this time but too much of him, of them both. Grabbing her bag she stood up and pointed out at the doors.

"Let's go somewhere else. I hate it here."

The rain had stopped as they headed out of the pub and made it to the sidewalk in silence. It was a cold day though, and windy. Now that her plans to drown the day in drinks had been reduced to ashes Karen felt lost and vulnerable, tired.

"Now that we are here, perhaps you could show me this city you talked to me so much about. What do you think?"

She hadn't forgotten about it. As a matter of fact, as soon as she had flied to Edinburgh she hadn't done anything but think about it over and over. How she had loved confessing it all about Scotland. The only thing was that it should have come up differently. Looking down at her feet, she nodded at the delicate suggestion and took a deep breath.

"I just wish it had happened under better circumstances."


	3. Meet Me on Princes Street

**Chapter three – Meet Me on Princes Street**

The sky might have finally turned blue but she nonetheless stayed in bed and stared blankly at it. As she had made it back to the hotel the day before, she had rushed to her husband's suite and yelled with all the frustration of her heart at him for having asked Will to join them in Scotland. Of course it hadn't made the slightest sense to Stanley but she hadn't minded that much either. Sometimes it felt necessary to pour your anger on an innocent third party.

Then she had headed back to her own suite and lost her vulnerability in a bottle of Brandy. She couldn't stand alcohol anymore but it seemed to be all what was left at the end. She would drift off to sleep and somehow manage to forget.

"Does it hurt? You look tired."

If she had appreciated Will's honesty once now she simply hated it. Perhaps their silence had been very artificial but she actually preferred it to any kind of confession. This wasn't the right place or the right moment. Leaning on the large stones, she looked down at Edinburgh spreading at her feet. Even if she came to the city for a bare few hours, she always made sure to climb on top where the castle had been built. From there she observed the buildings, how tiny Princes street seemed to be; and fragile.

"Not physically if it is what you mean. Not anymore."

"I wish we..."

She didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence. Anyway she already knew what he would have said and she didn't want to hear it. She had come to Scotland in order to forget, certainly not to ponder about regrets and what-ifs. Her hand hit the air and she turned around to head back to the main entrance.

**We had our chance.**

**We missed it.**

She shouldn't have accepted his presence by her side as he had knocked on the door of her suite around noon and she had told him about her plan to go up to the castle of Edinburgh. This was something she used to do alone, almost some sort of tradition and deep inside she had known that he would ruin it all. It just didn't work when they were together. They had tried, a lot more than what people would ever imagine, but it had always failed at some point. As if they weren't meant to anything together.

"Don't you want to take a taxi to go back down?"

"No, I want to walk. I need to."

She had sped up the pace of her steps suddenly. Concentrated on the cobblestone road and the precarious balance offered by her stilettos, she remained silent until they made it back to Princes Street. The traffic was intense and noisy there, life almost too boiling compared to the quietness of the castle on top of the hill. Dizzy and confused she stopped in front of a souvenir shop and looked around her desperately.

"Why does it not rain? I need rain. It isn't supposed to be sunny, not now."

"Karen..."

"And I am thirsty. Why don't I have a drink? And a cigarette, to accompany it. I have forgotten my pack at the hotel and look around, there is not a single pub here. Isn't it scandalous? Fuck we are in Scotland, we should be able to have a beer at every corner of every stupid street."

She would have gone on and on if all of a sudden she hadn't felt his hand on hers. Everything stopped. The sounds in the background had got stifled and all she could properly hear was the regularity with which her heart kept on beating loud in her chest. Nobody had touched her ever since. Some had tried but she had violently pushed them away, convinced as she was that it would hurt less. That she would be alright. But as her eyes got locked on his fingers pressing tightly her skin in the middle of Princes Street, she realized that she had been wrong. Being alone in the adversity didn't make anything softer, on the contrary.

"Come here."

She had missed his voice, this tone he used when it was time for some confidences. She had missed his arms around her frame and the way he always planted a kiss on her temple in a protective motion. She had missed the heat of his flesh against hers and the sentiment it stirred up somewhere deep inside in silence. She had simply missed him. Easy realization but extremely sincere and heartbreaking.

**This is how it all started.**

**Don't make the same mistake twice.**

**It isn't worth it.**

"I don't want to talk about it."

The passers-by were looking at them oddly as she had finally given into his embrace but she didn't care at all. They weren't doing anything wrong. Just a man hugging a woman, two friends. And who could have known that they had been more than that once?

"It is okay."

No, it wasn't and she knew it but for the moment she was unable to go further then give him whatever he wanted. Yet accepting his arms sounded like a bittersweet victory but tasted of an old defeat.

She did not say a single thing as she felt it brush the corner of her eye, caress her cheek before coming to die in silence along her lips. A single tear, a heavy one that meant too many things but didn't bring any relief.


	4. Menage a Trois

**Chapter four – Ménage à trois**

If for some women sharing a table with their current husband and a friend who had been a lover once seemed pretty random, she saw things differently. Perhaps because she had a conscience even if it had not showed up early enough. Like when she was sleeping with Will and the situation didn't weigh that much upon her shoulders as it did now.

Stanley had never known. Nobody had as a matter of fact. "The perfect scheme" somehow until it had all exploded in a thousand pieces and they had found themselves bare and vulnerable before reality. At times she wondered if he hadn't guessed, hadn't had some doubts about her love affair. But since he had never come up with the slightest remark, she hadn't dared to ask or make an allusion. He wouldn't have got mad, she knew it, but she would have lost an immense esteem to his heart.

Her eyes landed on Will who was waiting at their table and she let go of Stanley's hand instinctively as a veil of heat embraced her cheeks. Anyway it hadn't been a gesture of tenderness from her husband but a way to drag her out of her hotel suite where she had desperately tried to win some time over this most dreaded confrontation. Will wouldn't say the slightest thing about their past relation but still, sometimes words weren't needed to make a situation heavy.

**In another life.**

**Under other circumstances.**

**Perhaps.**

Since they had made it back to the hotel and gone separate ways to their respective suites in order to be ready for dinner, Karen hadn't stopped thinking about their embrace on Princes Street. It hadn't been an innocent act, not after what they had lived and experienced together. But there they were now and it all had changed since the last night they had spent at his place in silence. Besides she seemed to remember better the arguments, the weight of the words and the final clash echoing metallic sounds.

And then some sort of blackout, a burning pain and alcohol to drown an unfortunate past. How come a mere second in his arms that afternoon could suddenly almost erase all of this? She hadn't forgotten a single thing but the warmth of his body against hers made the whole world look smoother, almost acceptable.

"By the way, you are more than welcome to my school reunion on Saturday, Will. Who knows? Maybe potential clients stand among my old classmates."

If they hadn't been at some crowded restaurant, she would have slapped him with all the frustration and anger she had been accumulating quietly. Instead she simply held the menu tighter, clenched her teeth. She didn't want to see Will more than required. Yet she had to spend most of her afternoons with him as if it weren't enough painful. She wasn't stupid. As much as she would have never said it out loud, it was clear enough in her head that she had accepted to come to Edinburgh to the only purpose to escape, go away from all the rest. But there came Stanley, tactless.

"Everyone doesn't have in mind some money-making machine as you do, Stan. Don't you think a day off on his own sounds more appealing to him? Remember he has to deal with you and me every day, here. Attending a stranger's school reunion is the last thing someone would fancy when abroad."

One day she would be yelled at for the lack of politeness she tended to use when talking to him and she would have to face Stan's justified anger but her mind already off focused on her next glass of vodka.

"Oh... You are right, Karen. I am sorry, Will. Please don't feel any kind of pressure. We come here too often to ever remember that it isn't the case for everyone so if you prefer to go around and discover the city, feel free. Even though I hope my wife will still be a good guide in the meantime."

**I have been more than that. **

**If only you knew, Stan.**

"Karen has been so far."

As he mentioned her name, she couldn't help blushing and tried to hide her instinctive emotion in her glass of wine. He used to compliment her. Just like he used to kiss her temple and smile in the depths of her neck. She missed all that.

The rest of the dinner flew away lost in random conversations. Business, art. People who met Stan for the first time might have the feeling that he was a very smart man but the truth was that his knowledge was large but reduced to these two fields: management and painting. It must have been why she always got bored at some point when conversing with him, why they had stopped talking when alone.

Glass of whiskey in hand, they headed to the pool room for a game. It was already late and most of the clients of the hotel had retreated to their rooms for the night. The place looked like one of these bare, abandoned palaces you only see on pictures and that stirred up a wave of discomfort throughout your body. Time passing by over life without you having the slightest control over it and then you died. The doors of the lounge were open but as they were about to cross them, Stanley's cell phone rang and soon enough he left for his suite in quiet apologies.

"Do you want..."

She shook her head and motioned at the elevators instead wondering why fate seemed to always settle her alone with Will when all she wanted to was run away from him.

"It is late, I should go have some sleep now."

In silence they made it to the third floor where they both had their respective rooms. She knew that he had no choice but walk along the corridor with her since his door was a bit further down. She hated all of this, some sort of oppressive series of bad coincidences.

Passing the key-pass in the detector, she opened her door ajar and turned around to look at him. She dreaded this moment when nothing showed up but her vulnerability. This is how it had started, between her and Will.

"Goodnight."

She held him tight furtively then planted a light, unconscious kiss on his lips. Except he didn't let go of her and slid a hand on her lower back instead, deepened their embrace. The rest of the world could have exploded that she wouldn't have cared less. She was in his arms, responding to a kiss she had missed in silence for too long obviously.

**Who tells you that it won't hurt this time?**

**You should stop now.**

"No... I can't. I can't do that."

Her hand still on his chest as she had pushed him away when abruptly breaking apart, Karen bit her lips and shook her head at him, on the verge to cry. But it had hurt too much to ever go backwards.

"You know that we shouldn't do that."

As if to accompany her words, Will made a step backwards and she lost contact with his body. Hand in the air, she looked down at the floor and shook her head again in apologies.


	5. What Is Left Unsaid

**Chapter five – What Is Left Unsaid**

Innocence vanished as soon as men got importance, just like a hopeful light over existence. They had ruined everything somehow if she came to think about it. The rules of seduction had brought along new necessities and all of a sudden she had found herself dependent of them, unable to go on without a man by her side. It all revolved around the opposite sex and how to use them all in order to obtain some sort of success, mainly on financial terms.

Before life seemed easier, or at least in her blurry memories. It was all about laughter and blue skies, a few dreams that used to accompany her wherever she was supposed to go. There was no bottles of pills by then, no drinks or cigarettes. And her heart kept on beating at the same, reassuring pace. Why did it have to change?

Lost among her wonders and her slight despair to be running late, she almost didn't hear the soft knock on the door. She had spent most of the morning in bed, firstly reading but unable to concentrate on the words properly she had abandoned her novel to daydream, staring blankly at the castle by the window. The hours had flown by among incertitude and nonsense until she had realized that she was now being late.

"I thought we were supposed to meet in the lobby."

Though her sentence sounding more like a question than an affirmation in itself, she let Will enter the suite and went back to her closet almost immediately. The sky was gray and if it wasn't raining yet, the wind seemed to blow with strength outside. She needed warm clothes but seemed yet unable to make a proper choice.

"And I assumed that you would need this."

As her eyes landed on the palm of his hand, she couldn't help but freeze and swallow hard. A wave of heat had rushed up her cheeks and confused, she simply nodded at him before grabbing the earring she had been looking for the past hour.

"I know how important it is for you."

**Importance...**

**As if we cared about it now.**

She took her bathrobe off, not caring that much to appear wearing nothing but her underwear in front of him, and proceeded to put on a pair of black pants. Her first husband had once come up with a remark about the way she always wore black but she hadn't replied, only consciously avoided it by undressing and have sex with him. Men didn't mind about anything by then. Standing naked in front of them could make anything pass unnoticed.

"Because it belonged to my grandmother?"

Her eyes locked with his, she grabbed a cashmere cardigan and buttoned it. Will had taken her clothes off so many times that she could still feel his fingertips brush her skin. But her neck remained bare now when he used to trace a path of endless kisses there. He had always been sweet as if she were a delicate doll to deal with and could have broken into pieces at any time. This had been his main error about her. She would have never broken down in public.

"Because your father insisted on the fact they had to be yours."

He hadn't forgotten. The more she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that Will had kept in mind every single thing she had told him. In the darkness of his room between a sigh and a kiss. They had lived a very classic affair if she had to be honest, except for the end. Too much harshness, too much pain.

Grabbing her coat and her bag, she headed to the door without a gaze to him but let the words come out through a low, regretful tone of voice.

"Indeed."

…

The Royal Mile was crowded. Tourists and businessmen were pacing the historical street in an odd mix of dark, formal clothes and colorful ones. She loved getting lost there among strangers she would never meet again in her life. Nobody was paying to her and it was relieving somehow, comforting enough.

"Let's go to the pub at the corner. It is a nice one."

As they passed the doors and got wrapped up in the dimmed lights of the place, she let go of his hand she had been holding tight until then and went to order pints at the counter, along with typical dishes. They chose a table by the dartboard and before Will's surprised glance around, she smiled at him.

"It is a family-friendly pub. That's why there are children here."

Here gaze followed his and she bitterly observed a young couple at a table next theirs. She had looked happy just like them, once. With Will. Except it hadn't worked out as she had fantasized about in her dreams.

**Wrong time.**

**Wrong person.**

**Wrong life.**

"Karen?"

Her eyes had unconsciously focused on the woman's hand peacefully resting on her stomach in some natural gesture. Immediately Karen turned around and looked up at Will only to realize that the waiter was standing by their side, with two plates in hand.

"Which one is yours? Are we sharing or something? You took the order..."

"Yes, we... We are sharing."

Except she wasn't hungry anymore. Something was pressing on her throat, probably a wave of tears. So instead she grabbed her pint and began to drink. A fuzzy world was always better than this awful reality she was living.

"So tell me, Will. What did you work on this morning with Stanley?"

Ironic idea she had had to stop with Will by a place that was family-friendly.


	6. Play in Three Acts

**Chapter six – Play in Three Acts**

If hotels had a soul, they looked shadowy by night and in the first hours of the morning when some sort of spectral light pierced through the windows only to land on the carpeted floors; shadows playing on the walls. Wandering through them in silence brought along an odd sensation to her, as if she didn't belong to this world and was just lost there like an invisible ghost. But soon enough as she would go to bed, people would make the place live again and she would miss it. As usual. Because she wasn't made for this all.

"Oh Karen, you are already up?"

Her husband's voice in her back made her jump. Key-pass in hand, she turned around to face him while her brain was looking for words, any kind of explanation to the fact she was awake around seven when he was obviously on his way to work. But if there was something she liked about Stanley, it was how his impatience always won over the rest and standing awkwardly in the corridor of the Balmoral in the first hours of the morning, he didn't wait for an answer.

"Anyway... An associate would like you to join us for a formal dinner, tonight. I don't know where yet so I will let you know about it later. Will should be there as well though I still have to tell him about it but since I am supposed to spend the whole day with him, it shouldn't be a problem. By the way, I am sorry if you are going to be alone today, without your friend... But how about taking advantage of it to go to the Spa of the hotel or something and be ready for this evening? Have a nice day, dear."

She had never liked the way he used to plant a kiss on her forehead every time he had to leave. She had a feeling to be a child, his child. And she couldn't stand it. But as he had mentioned Will's name she had lost any esteem and let him do before finally entering her suite.

Abandoning her stilettos by the door, she passed her bed and stepped into the bathroom. If baths were a must in the evening, she nonetheless decided to run one now instead of taking a shower. She needed to think, ponder a thousand things even though she was vaguely deprived of sleep, she knew that dreams would have never wrapped her up in the next hours. Her brain was in turmoil. Her heart too, perhaps if she had to be honest.

**There shouldn't be a second act.**

**Because it wasn't an intermission but the end.**

**The last time.**

Her clothes landed in silence on the floor and as the hot water embraced her body, she leaned her head backwards then looked up at the ceiling. She was messing up everything, in spite of what she had just gone through. She knew it. Not that it was the first time but as the years were passing by and she only lost herself in bad repetitions of her mistakes, her frustration grew wilder. It hurt, a lot more than what she would have imagined once. But there she was, unable to resist properly.

Holding her breath she went under waters and kept her eyes open. The world sounded quiet by then as the beats of her heart seemed to bring along a needed regularity. It was a motion that had turned into a habit as a child when her parents argued or even after her father had died. To escape from her mother's sobs in the room next door, she disappeared in her bath and listened to nothing but her heart pacing on her temples while her hair formed an odd, brown wave of ribbon on the surface.

Except this time nobody was sobbing or arguing. The whole storm was taking place in her head and she had no idea how to deal with it. Being on her own for the rest of the day didn't help that much. At least when Will was by her side, she didn't really have time to wonder over and over about a broken past, a messy present and a blurry future.

A delicate touch on her shoulder sent a shiver down her spine but as she tried to grab the object causing such a reaction, it fell down in the water. She observed the earring in silence, how it floated among the bubble soap by her side. If this time it had held on all night, one day she would lose it once and for all. And Will wouldn't be here the next morning to give it back to her. There wouldn't be anyone and facing a great despair, she would be alone dealing with the missing item.

**Unless you assume a couple of things.**

**Starting with the fact that it is only the beginning.**

**Life is a play in three acts.**

**Don't forget this.**

Ideas began to storm in her head and all of a sudden the bathroom became oppressing. Wrapped up in the bathrobe of the hotel, she walked to the lounge of her Deluxe suite and sat by the fireplace that an employee of the palace had lit up while she was taking a bath. The morning had settled down now and as she looked by the window, the castle of Edinburgh appeared in the distance lost in the fog. It wasn't raining but the day was dark, and gloomy.

She felt like crying. Her loneliness had never reached such immensity and her life seemed bare if not just pointless suddenly. But against all expectations, tears didn't show up. Only words. With a shaking hand she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen before pouring her heart into a letter she knew would sign her demise.


	7. More Than Words

**Chapter seven – More Than Words**

_I was pregnant, once. _

_Even the words sound odd, written down on a sheet of paper. Isn't it ironic how I spent most of my life fantasizing about the way this statement would make me proud when finally it doesn't even seem right? It has to be a sign; that it wasn't meant to be, that I am not supposed to have a child. Whatever kind of excuse I will find to relieve my mind before the choices I made, it doesn't get rid of the pain. Something is burning down inside. It seems to be running within my veins and as it reaches my heart, the suffering explodes in a torrent of ice. _

_Sometimes, I come to the conclusion that I have died but people would have forgotten to tell me about it. Which would explain the sleepless nights, the wanders through blurry glasses of vodka, the packs of cigarettes and most of all, the constant emptiness that oppresses my heart as if I were deprived of every single aspect that characterizes a human being. I might still be in this world, I know that I am not alive anymore. _

_Wrong person. Wrong timing. Wrong life._

_It wasn't Stan's._

_It tipped over a year ago. Have you ever considered that an affair could actually be a beautiful chance in someone's life? Not me. Until it crossed the lines and made it into my very own existence without a single warning. I had witnessed my mother and be used by her too many times in the past to ever think that infidelity could own a high degree of honesty, and care. But I fell for him. As soon as we kissed, I forgot about all the rest and found myself unable to resist. _

_We assumed that we would have time. For what? I have no idea but we had got wrapped up and taken away by the exhilaration of the beginnings. I might have been married to another man that it couldn't change the slightest thing. We were happy. Too much, perhaps. Obviously._

_It was an accident. I wasn't supposed to get pregnant. Just like I wasn't supposed to cheat on the man I had married but maybe at the end we don't have that much of a hold over our existences. Whatever it is we didn't even mention the fact I could eventually keep it. Not that I am blaming anyone because after all, an abortion was the only element of logic left to us. _

_I refused him to accompany me to the clinic. Perhaps this is when it really got broken into a thousand pieces unless it was already too late. We met a couple of times afterward but nothing happened except frustration boiling into arguments._

_I left for Edinburgh thinking about the last time we had kissed. The day before I bought the test, locked myself in this stupid bathroom of some gloomy bar lost in The West Village. If I had known by then... I would have never left his bed, his arms._

_Why did he have to follow me? Why did he have to come over here and swept away my decisions with such easiness that can't but hurt the efforts I have made in spite of my suffering? You have no idea how I hate him for that. How I wish he had stayed in New York by your side and let me deal with my pain on my own, far from all of this. Because it was over and had to be._

_Except it barely took me a day to succumb back to him. Have I already forgotten what happened? Can't I, just for once, learn my lesson? No, apparently. Because I am worth nothing. The night falls over the city and I cease to be Stanley's wife only to find back Will's arms around me. And I am not happy. I am not. _

_Confused, lost, hurt, terrified, desperate, distressed, empty, ashamed._

_In love, in spite of everything._

_I don't understand why it had to be Will. It doesn't make sense whenever I think about it but perhaps it isn't supposed to. Nothing happened on purpose. We didn't try to hurt you and even though I know that we did, I am still hoping that you won't judge me. Nor him. If I hadn't got pregnant, we would haven't stopped anything. The truth is, I liked the secretive part of it. But now... I don't know. I don't know the slightest thing anymore. I am sorry._

_Karen_

She didn't reread it. With a shaking hand, she grabbed an envelope and tried to ignore the dizziness that the letter had stirred up. It went beyond words. What made her heart beat so fast and so loud found its spring in a blurry corner of her mind that kept on telling her that she had been wrong: she hadn't died yet and was even less deprived of feelings or she wouldn't have been like that, on the verge of bursting into tears.

Someone knocked on the door. With a barely contained nervousness, she folded the letter and slid it in the envelope before grabbing back her pen.

"Who is it?"

The fragile sound of her voice hit the air with an odd melancholy. The tears wouldn't come but stayed trapped in her throat, hurting.

"Room service."

"Please, come in."

The door opened as the black ink engraved her handwriting on the front side of the white envelope and without a last gaze, she sealed it.

_Grace Adler – Jack McFarland_

_155 Riverside Dr – Apt. 9C_

_New York NY 10024_

_USA_


	8. An Endless Story

**Chapter eight – An Endless Story**

Alcohol had finally invaded her system. The world looked fuzzy now while every single movement seemed to play in slow motion before her eyes. As the glass landed on the table, she observed for long seconds how some beer was sliding down her hand. She hadn't controlled the strength with which she had wanted to put down her drink. It was always the same, between slurring and unsteady steps Karen had no hold over her actions when tipsy.

Sending her stilettos on the other side of the lounge, she sat down on a sofa and lit up a cigarette. It was only a matter of minutes now before him knocking on the door of her suite then spend the night in the anonymity of their affair. They were sleeping together and so what? She was cheating on Stanley when Will was betraying Grace. And Jack, on some level. But if the issue seemed bigger under the daylight, it didn't mean that much after a few glasses.

**At least he looks at me.**

**And cares, too. **

**On his own way.**

She had closed her eyes for a few seconds when the knock on the oak door made her jump. It had been delicate, and subtle enough as if he had been afraid to wake up someone in the other rooms. Cigarette abandoned in the ashtray, she stood up and went to open. Her balance was extremely precarious but for someone who was about to spend the next hours in a bed, it didn't turn out to be such a problem.

He never made the first step. As soon as the door got closed behind them, she was the one to approach him, pass a hand along his nape before reaching his lips in a deep kiss. The contact with his body elicited the same sensation, night after night. A shiver went down her spine before passing underneath her skin and resting on her lower stomach as his hands finally found some boldness to go down her hips.

A step led to another kiss until the back of her knees hit the bed and she went to unzip his pants, get rid of his shirt. Perhaps in the past it had been sweeter, more delicate and tender. Their first time had been awkward in a way that had bewitched her. Everything had tipped over by then, and settled down such a series of other encounters and exhilaration of feelings that it had been engraved in her mind, her heart as well. Will was an attentive partner and she loved it.

Once his lips left hers for her collarbone, she knew that he wanted to undress her as well. Following a slow motion, his fingers reached the zipper of her dress in her back and the fabric suddenly fell down to her feet with quietness echoing a sigh escaping her mouth.

Before her pregnancy, she used to let him do: lay her down on the bed, caress every single inch of her skin as he took off her underwear. But since they had renewed their affair in Scotland, the urge to be in control of the rest boiled into her stomach and every time she pushed him down on the mattress before straddling him. She had never liked dominating Will but it seemed almost vital now as if by not following such a plan, something would break down into pieces.

Her eyes locked with his, she sat up on him and unhooked her bra before tracing a path of kisses down his legs to finally take off his boxers. Eventually she would accept at this point to roll on her back and let his hands travel her thighs. She closed her eyes but never relaxed entirely, almost counting down the moment when his lips brushed her lower stomach. Then she gently pushed him up back to her own lips or suggestively opened her legs so he got rid of her garter belts and stockings.

But once naked, she barely allowed herself to one tight embrace with him before rolling back on top of him. The scheme was perfect, too much perhaps. Straddling him, she could control the slightest motion of his body, his hands caressing her hips then going up her breasts.

At the beginning of the week while finding herself on top of him, she had been surprised by her feelings as if her abortion had reduced to ashes the woman she was supposed to be. But the truth was that he was still driving her crazy and when his arousing brushed her inner thighs, she knew that they wouldn't be able to handle it any longer.

It was her position, her desires, her thrusts and her caresses. Arching her back for a better angle, she bit her lower lip to restrain a loud sigh taken away by the heat of his body, his fingers brushing her curves. He always tried in the most exhilarating moment to make it back to her lower stomach but her hands went for his and she refused the mere contact there, against the thin skin.

**Don't do this.**

**Not now.**

**Not to me.**

She sped up the pace of their thrusts then let it go, abandoned herself to the warmness spreading over her body from her feet to her head. His lips were moist when she found them back but even if pleasure had released its dose of dopamine, the mere contact of her tongue with his resulted enough to send a new shiver down her spine. Because it was like that, with Will. Some sort of endless story.

Except when she settled down by his side and came to rest against him, she meticulously avoided the contact of her stomach with his body. The scar might have been invisible but it was there, hurting for all the things the abortion had meant.

The story might have got repeated but this time it was happening differently. She loved him, needed his presence next to her but as much as she tried, Karen didn't manage to trust Will.


	9. Husband And Wife

**Chapter nine – Husband And Wife**

She hadn't imagined that he would stay. Every time she had sneaked out of his suite in the middle of the night or in the first hours of the morning because it seemed better like that, conventional enough in the logic of an affair. They weren't together and couldn't be mentioned as a couple whatsoever. It didn't sound right then to behave as one. Except that exact morning while she rolled on her side and opened her eyes, Karen faced Will sleeping peacefully next to her. In her bed, her suite. As if he saw things from a different perspective.

After long seconds of dead-end wonders, she quietly got up and put on the bathrobe of the hotel. It was strange to wake up by someone's side while married to another man. Not that she felt guilty but a slight discomfort was invading her little by little. Still half-asleep, she headed on her tiptoes to the lounge and settled there on the sofa before grabbing the menu of The Balmoral. She was hungry, odd sensation she hadn't experienced for a long while now.

This is when she noticed it, there on the coffee table next to the pen she had used the day before. It had not been folded and she recognized the handwriting immediately. He hadn't signed, hadn't needed to, of course. After all they had been married for quite a while.

He hadn't stopped by her suite the previous evening. She knew it because he had sent her a limousine, for already being at the restaurant himself. Then after dinner, she had headed back to her room and waited there for Will. The conclusion was clear, and disturbing enough. Stanley had found a way to step inside the suite in the morning while she was still sleeping in bed next to a naked Will.

With a shaking hand, she grabbed her husband's missive and swallowed hard before daring to land her eyes on it. Her heart was beating fast. Too fast.

_Dear,_

_John invites us to his house this evening for a formal dinner. Please meet me in the lobby of the hotel at 6pm. If you need to reach me, leave a message on my cell phone. I will eventually listen to it and find a way to reply. Will has his day off and doesn't need to attend the party this evening. Please tell it to him for me. Have a nice day._

"You should have woken me up."

Will's voice made her jump. She immediately stood up but lost her balance and hit the coffee table with the back of her knees. Papers fell down along the letter she had been holding. Blushing, she turned around to pick up everything and in a gesture of cowardice threw it all in the fireplace. A few seconds later, the words written by her husband while he had probably observed her asleep in an another man's arms had disappeared into ashes.

"Oh... I had just got up and was thinking about... About having breakfast. Would you like some too?"

Their marriage might have not been the happiest one, Karen still knew that Stanley had never cheated on her. Yet herself she had had to wait for ten years and his divorce from his previous wife to ever get a rendez-vous. Infidelity wasn't a notion he accepted or considered as a possibility.

The afternoon didn't fly away. On the contrary, each second passing by seemed to tighten even more on her throat and as the sun began to disappear behind the gray clouds of Scotland, panic spread over her body. She had spent the whole day with Will in the hopes that a shopping spree would keep her enough busy to not think about her dreadful face-to-face with Stanley but it didn't work out that way. Instead, she simply appeared distant and cold to Will who nicely enough, didn't insist.

**Nothing was meant to be.**

**Though I always end up ruining people's lives.**

**And I hate myself for that.**

She had been pacing the lobby nervously yet trying to keep her distance with the bar for not making it to her husband's colleague tipsy when she saw him arrive. He looked calm, too much which only made her more panicked. Softly enough Stan grabbed her hand and together they left the hotel to step into a limousine.

He had always had cold angers, as if unable to let his frustration come out or just afraid to lose control over his acts then. She hated it because it gave her a sentiment of inferiority, like a little girl standing in front of her father and being reprimanded. The ride looked endless under a heavy silence that none of them dared to break. What for, anyway? Arguing in public was something none of them appreciated. It had to remain in the tight intimacy of a room, not on the backseats of a limousine.

The car finally stopped in front of a large townhouse lost in a wealthy area of the city. Politely, Stanley stepped out first and tended his hand to her. She accepted it. After long years among the high society, she knew the rules of conventionalism by heart and would have never tried to break any of them with Stan. The consequences were too important, for both of them.

They climbed the few steps in silence then stopped in front of the closed door. At this point Karen was not sure to ever be able to look at her husband properly again, in the eyes. Shame was weighing on her mind along with guilt and pain.

"I am sorry if I have hurt you, Stanley..."

"I am not hurt but disappointed. I shouldn't have come to conclusions concerning you so quickly. That's it... Hey, John, how are you doing?"

If her inaudible apologies had died into Stan's firm and cold tone of voice, as the door opened and John appeared, the tension suddenly vanished; not that it got away but simply hid itself behind a dark veil of appearances.


	10. What We Ever Built

**Chapter ten – What We Ever Built**

She hated losing herself in his eyes because it reminded her of how things would always go bad, in the wrong direction between the two of them. It must have been why they hadn't tried to make any kind of plan. Not even about the next time they would meet, or where. It just happened if circumstances got it right and that was it. They had lasted a year like that and the delicate break that had followed after the abortion didn't seem to have changed anything. They were back together, no mattered what it meant.

"Don't touch me. Not now, not today. This isn't why I asked you to come over here."

After the dinner at Stan's colleague's house, she had felt the urge to confront Will with what they had or better said, what they thought they owned which meant absolutely nothing but a couple of deep regrets and the harshness of broken dreams.

"It was a boy..."

As her words hit the air, they took her aback and she restrained a gasp before looking down at her lap. She hadn't meant to talk about it, at absolutely no moment. The only thing she had had in mind so far had been the fact her husband knew about them, and what it meant for the course of events. Not that she had the desire to put an end to their affair, even less the courage to do so, but they had reached another stage.

Will remained silent for a while, probably confused at first by her words and their blurry meaning. She knew that he had understood when he began to move uncomfortably next to her, on the sofa. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned anything but deep inside she was sure that there would never be a right moment for it anyway.

**It is time to deal with it.**

**Accept it.**

"But it was too early to ever know."

"I just could feel it. It was a boy, not a girl."

Against all expectations, her own remark made her smile and she let a light laugh escape from her lips. It didn't hurt to talk about it when she had imagined that it would. It wasn't relieving either but at some point, she felt understood. This wasn't something she should have gone through alone. The main, harsh mistake she had made had been to believe that it would be easier that way when things would have gone better with Will by her side from the beginning to the end.

"Do you want to have a child?"

"No... I have never seen myself in a motherly role. It wouldn't suit me, let's be honest."

The confession sounded harsh and severe but she strictly believed in every single word she had used. It had never been part of her fantasy. Building a family looked closer to a mere utopia than a real fact to be thought about which might have explained why her abortion had had a deep resonance. She wouldn't have imagined that it could be so hard to not keep an eventual child.

"I disagree. You wouldn't look like all the mothers around but... I don't know, maybe one day you will try. Or should."

She liked alcohol and cigarettes too much to ever accept the eventuality to drop them out. Besides there wouldn't be a single thing left to make her life lighter and she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle that. A child meant responsibilities she didn't have.

"Is it because of Stanley? He doesn't want children?"

The irony of the thought made her laugh but it pressed so much on her throat that she put an end to it as fast as she could. As nicotine filled her lungs, she closed her eyes and leaned her head backwards. They had never talked like that. During the year that had lasted their affair, they hadn't exchanged the single conversation except for arguments after her abortion. And it was strange all of a sudden to see that they had changed.

"He knows. Stanley knows. Because I wasn't answering he asked for a key-pass to my suite and entered this morning. We were still sleeping."

"How did he manage to get a key-pass for a suite that isn't his?"

Will's question betrayed a lot about their relation. It wasn't a mere affair to the point they even forgot to the most basic elements of their lives sometimes. Locking her eyes with his, Karen smiled bitterly.

"What kind of employee wouldn't give a client the key-pass to his wife's suite?"

**And now what?**

**Getting a divorce or pretending it is alright...**

**I don't know and don't give a damn.**

Will was embarrassed by the logic of her remark. It made her feel bad, sorry enough for having been a bit harsh. Too direct. But things were what they were and they couldn't change that.

"Your stomach..."

"Go away."

One more time, she took him aback. The violence of her tone had found an abrupt echo in the lounge and all of a sudden she wished they hadn't talked at all. At least when in bed, she was safe. In his arms. But what had they built then except an impersonal, purely sexual relationship?

"You mean definitely?"

"No... Just... Just not tonight. Not now."

The door got closed, resounding loud and coldly around her. As another wave of nicotine ran through her veins she closed her eyes again and leaned her head backwards. She hated the silence of the night. It made her feel too small, too weak at times. She couldn't help but frown as a tear slowly escaped her eyes then slid down to the corner of her mouth.


	11. From The Very Beginning

**Chapter eleven – From The Very Beginning**

Not relieved but on the verge to be, as if the pressure was finally going away little by little and there she was with the right to breathe again. She felt light in his arms, all of a sudden. As his lips had gone down her chest, he had stopped then looked up at her. Five seconds, barely more. Almost nothing in a life and yet it had changed it all when she had nodded and given him the implicit authorization to touch her stomach.

Perhaps she had thought that it would burn, that the pain would be atrocious and she would die at the scene even if it sounded like an absurd reason. Instead, it had simply resulted soft and warm. Her heart had pounded loud but she had calmed down under his touch, relaxed to the point of abandoning herself entirely to him as it hadn't happened in a long time. The truth was that she had missed it, badly missed it and she might not have been about to forget about her abortion but it seemed like she was suddenly dealing with it better, slowly.

A kiss from him elicited a peaceful smile on her lips. The reaction was instinctive and wishing quietly for it to last longer, she passed a hand through his hair implicitly pushing him closer to her neck. If at some point in her life she had hated the moment that followed a sexual intercourse, with Will it barely had anything to do. Losing herself in his eyes and letting time fly by had almost become vital. They did not speak that much by then, just looked at each other and cuddled but it sounded enough, perfect.

**Even if it is not me.**

**Not the person I know.**

**I don't get it.**

As much as the previous night had been dominated by a strong insomnia and the day wrapped up in a fog of the same wonders, she didn't feel tired in bed by his side. The night had now fallen for quite a while over Edinburgh but all Karen had in mind was feeding herself of Will's intense gaze on her, how his brown eyes brought along a sentiment of satisfaction she hadn't experienced a lot in her life.

"I don't understand."

Her fingertips brushed his cheek before coming to rest on his chest and she bit her lower lip, frowned. Her voice was hoarse and sounded strange in the silence of the suite, fragile somehow.

"You don't understand what?"

"Why you sleep with me. Why you like kissing me, and touching me... I have never understood any of this. Not because I am married and we are friends but because it is you. And you prefer men."

It wasn't the first time she alluded to his sexual preferences but usually Will didn't reply and passed to another subject instead or simply got up desperately looking for something that would get his attention. She had tried twice or so but finally abandoned after consecutive failures. Besides, it wouldn't make it any different in the end. But it seemed like the words had slid along her lips without any warning while in bed by his side that evening and they had surprised herself as much as him.

"Do you have a cigarette?"

It disappointed her but she nonetheless motioned the coffee table of the lounge and let him go for one. She wished he had been honest, even though it would have been only to say that he had no idea himself about the reasons that had pushed him in her arms.

"Don't smoke in bed. It is a rather depressing image."

Will didn't insist and chose an armchair by one of the large windows that overlooked the castle. From the bed, she could only picture out his back, eventually his face if he turned around to observe closer the street below. She hadn't witnessed him smoking that much during the previous year of their affair. The rare occasions Will went for a cigarette had mostly been about doubts, pain or anger. And she did not want to live any of this that night. It all had to be about kisses and falling asleep in his arms.

"I don't know... I wish I could give you a proper answer but the truth is that I don't know it myself. You are not like the others. This ounce of mystery, perhaps... Your duality is fascinating, terribly tempting."

"So this is all I am? Some sort of temptation?"

Will didn't finish the cigarette and let it get consumed in the ashtray while he went back to bed, wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands were cold on her skin but his lips soft and warm as they touched her jaw in a delicate kiss.

"It is the fragility that lays within it I like. No matters you are a woman."

One day she would manage to tell him a lot of things although it could be reduced to three simple words that most of people were scared to say out loud for the supremacy of their meaning, the uncontrollable strength that emanated from them. But she wasn't ready for them yet, even if the scenario was playing now in her head. It would be perfect because it had to. Would it change anything? She hoped so, quietly enough.

Karen closed her eyes with the satisfaction of walking through a bright path. On the next day she would attend her husband's school reunion then pack before leaving for Manhattan wondering what would be left of Scotland in her heart. The vapors of alcohol, the burning of some tears and these words that did not come up and brush her lips. An I love you she kept on repeating silently in the secret shades of her dreams. And hopes, a thousand ones.


	12. Meet Me In Ten Years

**Chapter twelve – Meet Me In Ten Years**

One day she would find the courage to look up at him, to plunge into his gaze and assume everything but for the moment she was staring intently at her feet avoiding the mere contact while they were going down the hall to the elevator. It wasn't the fact she was cheating on him but the way Stanley seemed to react before it that troubled her the most. It didn't make sense. The silence and the absence of argument brought a precarious balance to the scene and somewhere in between, she felt at her husband's mercy.

Bad timing. As they reached the elevator, they came face-to-face with Will who was obviously waiting for it as well. If he had been invited to the school reunion, his presence there seemed to respond more to an act of arrogance than anything else now. As if he were to defy Stan's unbearable silence and a few personal frustrations at the same time.

Stuck between her husband and her lover, Karen didn't say a word and held her breath until they made it to the basement of the hotel. The situation was becoming extremely embarrassing and as the seconds were passing by, a wave of guilt was increasing on her mind. She might have been in the middle of an affair herself, she still couldn't stand the notion of infidelity. There was no excuse for it but cowardice for not daring to put an end to a failed marriage instead. And she hated that.

But as the doors of the elevator opened back and the bright lights of the Balmoral caressed her arms, it didn't change anything to the weight on her chest. Stanley and Will might suddenly take their distance with her, she still felt oppressed for whatever reason.

**But my situation is different.**

**Ours.**

**I love him, I love Will.**

Glad that the school reunion was held in one of the ball rooms of the hotel, she silently followed both men to it. This time Stanley hadn't gone for her hand, barely made the slightest contact. Though as they passed the doors she instantly put on a fake smile, ready to play the perfect wife by his side. It worked very well to the point at times she wondered if this wasn't the key of their relation. It wasn't about love but convenience and matching behaviors. An excellent aptitude to lying as well, perhaps.

"Karen, it has been a while... How are you doing in Manhattan?"

A quick glance in her back and she realized that she had been left alone. Stanley was a few feet away, already talking to someone while Will was nowhere to be seen. Assuming he had made it to the bar, she smiled at her interlocutor and began to relax. Nobody would ever notice anything about her private life. Not because they didn't have to but simply because she had spent most of the past years making sure it all remained in the dark where it belonged.

"We are doing just fine. How about you? Still in London?"

Jane, married to a rich businessman and the perfect stereotype of her feminine counterpart in the very close sphere of socialites; she knew everything about everyone from the latest divorce to the newest pregnancy and she was all about gossip, a few lies as well maybe.

"London isn't the same without Sophie... Don't you know? She left her husband for her lawyer! It was quite the scandal of the year. Lord knows where she is now. Probably hiding herself after such a stupid _faux-pas_."

It always hit without any warning, at your most vulnerable moment. The words got thrown icily in the air before falling back on someone's shoulders and guilty mind. It wasn't fair but who had said that life had to be at the end?

"Are you alright, Karen? You look very pale, all of a sudden."

And lost. Ashamed and in pain. The irony of life twirling around in her head, she nodded to Jane before apologizing and headed to the bar. She needed a drink, several bottles of Champagne that would make her forget the rest. Perhaps she would even pass out then feel so light, then. And it would be perfect.

**But what if she was in love?**

**Then she made the right choice.**

**And it requires strength, a lot of it.**

Alcohol slid down her throat but for the very first time in a long while, it didn't bury anything starting with the urge to burst into tears. She had renounced to a child, drawn a line under the perspective of a happy marriage and accepted to deal with every day lies. The compromises were tough, and heavy. And for what? She wasn't even sure that one day, it would give her any credit.

"Oh Karen... Where is your husband? I have been looking for him for quite a while now."

Sweeping away her wonders, she politely smiled at the man standing in front of her and briefly scanned the room. In vain. Stanley was nowhere to be seen, now.

"I am not sure... I go for him immediately."

Because it was her only role at the end. A trophy and an assistant when required, nothing else but that. A mere shadow in Stan's life. Wandering through the crowd, she reached the bottom of the room soon enough and perplexed, looked around. She hadn't spotted neither her husband nor Will, only a few men and women she considered as bare acquaintances but whose joyful faces for meeting back alumni after a ten-year lapse contrasted sharply with hers.

No, she wasn't happy.

Abandoning her glass on a small table, she froze as Stan's voice resounded on her left. A door was open ajar, enough to overhear a semblance of conversation. With a shaking hand, she pushed the door before making a step in a smaller room full of armchairs and tables. Will and her husband were there, turning their back at her, lost in the observation of the hotel patio through a large French window.

"And so what? I shouldn't recommend you to someone just because you fuck my wife? Don't be stupid. It is your career we are talking about. Besides... I haven't just found out about you and Karen. I always knew about it somehow. A year ago or so, perhaps a few months more. And you know why? Because it is when she began to smile. It hadn't happened in a long while. You succeeded where I failed. What can I say? That's life. We don't love each other but I still need her by my side. I don't mind about the rest. I am okay if you spend some time with her. If that can make her happy. Anyway you haven't planned on making it official, right? You don't want to be the official one, even less marry her?"

"Of course not!"

"See, then it doesn't change the slightest thing."

The sound of a broken glass in the background took her out of the painful realization of Will's comment and without waiting for any of them to turn around, she hurried out and crossed the ball room ignoring people dancing around, their light laughter. It had all exploded in a thousand pieces in her heart, within a few seconds. A few words. Will had settled down their absence of future with logic. Her dreams had crashed. It was over now.


	13. What The Wind Takes Away

**Chapter thirteen – What The Wind Takes Away**

The world looked darker behind her sunglasses, as if plunged in a heavy fog of night from which not a single light would ever seem bright and even less shine. But it was safer somehow, more logical that way around. Especially after the night of tears she had spent huddled on her bed, trying to ignore all the pain Will's comment had stirred up. He didn't want her except for a few hours a week. It was insulting and yet expected. After all they were having an affair, it had nothing to do with a relationship. The rules weren't the same and she had to accept it. Or leave.

As the bellhop took her suitcases away, she stopped in the middle of the lounge and cast a glance at the suite. She had arrived in a thousand pieces and if for a while she had imagined that the situation had got better, the way it ended clearly showed the exact opposite. She had failed, about everything.

About to leave the suite, she grabbed her bag and something fell down out of it. Her sunglasses might soften the whiteness of the envelope, she still recognized it immediately. The letter to Grace and Jack; she had completely forgotten to mail it. Forgotten to its existence if she had to be honest. With shaking hands, she bent down to pick it up and hesitated for a few seconds.

**But there is nothing to know anyway.**

**Since he doesn't care.**

**About me, about us.**

Tearing the letter off, she threw the different pieces away in a paper basket by the door then tightened her grip on her bag and left. Stanley had left earlier in the morning and if at some point she would have appreciated the coincidence, now the perspective of flying with Will for such a long time weighed a lot on her shoulders. On her heart. He hadn't stopped by her suite the night before after the school reunion. As a matter of fact, nobody had knocked on the door to be sure she was alright when she had left way before the end of the party. Because nobody cared. Nobody had ever cared.

The ride to the airport flew away in the most complete silence. If he looked tired, Will nonetheless did not wear the face of an angry man. Logically enough since he had no idea about anything. But he didn't insist before the lack of conversation and gladly let her read The New York Times, vain attempt to hide herself from him.

Nine hours. Head against the window, Karen closed her eyes. For the next nine hours she would have to be sat next to a man she had thought to know once, had expected too much from though and nothing was left all of a sudden but her name on a medical file at a private clinic. A few stomach cramps and a perpetual nightmare that wouldn't leave her alone at night.

The tissue brushed her cheek with delicacy and this is when she realized that she was crying. Holding back a gasp of surprise, she nonetheless stared at Will behind her sunglasses and frowned to his gesture with incomprehension. He had noticed her tears, quiet ones that had been falling for a long time.

"I hate you."

The cold whisper burnt on her lips as she turned her head around and looked by the window. The ocean appeared from time to time through the clouds, adding blue to a ribbon of discontinue white. She felt as if locked inside a too narrow place, lacking breath and space. Will was too close.

She wished it had been true. She wished her words had been the right ones and they would have put an end to everything, just like that. But it didn't work that way. Instead, every time she turned around and looked at him, her heart began to beat faster and she wanted nothing but to rush in his arms and feel the heat of his body against her own one.

"I love you."

It hurt even more but the sound escaping her mouth hit the air in a murmur full of veracity. With regrets perhaps but all in all, it came to balance the previous lie. From the corner of her eye she saw him come closer to her but hand up in front of his face, she stopped him immediately before shaking her head.

"I know that it doesn't fit your plans, that you don't see me like that. Leave me alone, now."

Her stifled sobs led her to a dreamless sleep she only woke up from as the plane made contact with the asphalt in New York. The sky was blue, and clear. After the heavy, gray clouds of Scotland it offered a brand new perspective she nonetheless didn't manage to reach properly. Two sentences, this was all she had given to Will during the flight but yet her pain hadn't healed.

They passed the custom office in silence, waited for their luggage among passengers who looked way too alive to belong to the same world as them. Two lonely souls, two broken hearts and confused minds were all that was left from a wind that had pushed some dreams too far away.

**And now what?**

**I can't handle that.**

She let him push the chariot through the crowd of the airport, casting glances all around at strangers. A toddler caught her attention near a coffee place, a little boy making his first unsteady steps and holding tight his mother's hands. And he looked genuinely happy, proud.

She must have stopped walking because all of a sudden Karen felt a hand grab her wrist. Surprised, she turned around and looked at Will but lost her balance as his lips captured hers in a deep, long kiss. He held her back, preventing her from falling down. She should have pushed him away and broken apart but she had never had the courage to do so, even at the beginning of their affair when everything was still fragile. And now she was simply there, in his arms, melting under his lips while his hands were cupping her face tight. People were probably observing the scene but she didn't mind that much. Perhaps their gesture sounded inappropriate for such a public area but she didn't have the strength to fight it back.

She wished they had had a chance to stay like that for the rest of their life, as if time had got suspended and everything would always be fine. But Will finally broke apart and she dreaded what was coming. It might have been the end, their very last kiss. Then they would close a dark chapter of their existence, pretend they had never experienced it. But he kept his hands on her cheeks, protectively. And remained close to her, on the verge to brush her lips.

"I love you, Kare."


	14. On The Other Side

**Chapter fourteen – On The Other Side**

The glass was warm under her fingertip in spite of the difference of temperature where it met with the transparent liquid. It had been standing on her desk for quite a while now, maybe a couple of hours. And if her eyes had stared at it intensively, she hadn't been able to properly grab it and drink it down.

"It is the first time I see you hesitate so much before a glass of vodka."

Politely smiling at Grace's remark, she nonetheless stayed still and kept on contemplating the drink she had poured herself earlier in the morning. Alcohol and cigarettes. Her whole life was based on this, no mattered they came along with addiction and unhealthy habits. She needed her daily dose of nicotine as the world looked smoother after a few drinks. It was a devilish compromise but the only balance found.

"It must be the jet lag."

Or Will, their affair and the contrast between his reaction at the airport and the words he had used when conversing with her husband in Edinburgh. There was no logic whatsoever. It was very troubling to say the least.

"By the way, an obstetric clinic called and asked to talk to you yesterday. Since you had just landed and were unpacking at your place, I didn't tell you right away. They want you to call back Dr. Kingsley... Is there anything you would like to confess, Karen?"

If the professional's name turned her blood into a torrent of ice and she restrained a gasp, she couldn't help but blush while Grace's implicit allusion to an eventual pregnancy made it to her mind. Nervously she began to move on her seat and look around in search of a way to change the subject.

**Like I will let it happen again.**

**I am not that crazy.**

"No, it... It is a mere checkup."

She shouldn't have given the office phone number to the clinic even though she had insisted on the fact it was a backup one, the kind of number you only called at night when the first one didn't get through. But she had panicked by then and only come to the conclusion that it was still better than the one of the penthouse. Besides, they weren't supposed to reach her once the abortion was over.

Her explanation sounded false but she didn't give a chance to her friend to ask for further information. Will was waiting for her midtown, for lunch. Officially they had to discuss business terms, sign a few contracts as well. But in a world of pure veracity, it was a mere excuse to see each other.

She took the subway instead of hailing a cab. It hadn't happened in years but all of a sudden Karen felt the urge to get lost among a crowd of strangers. Perhaps they would judge her, stare at her, but at least she wouldn't find herself alone facing her own regrets, and doubts, about a thousand things. Sunglasses on she slowly headed towards Times Square and stopped by the stairs where tourists admired the urban landscape. Nobody was speaking English, there. It was a mix of nationalities, different languages that brought a peculiar and exotic shade to a random weekday.

"Sorry, I am late."

She didn't have time to move. Instead, his hand slid on her waist and as he made her turn around to face him properly he captured her lips in a deep kiss. Except they were not in Scotland anymore and such a public area wasn't appropriate for this kind of embrace. She could have been seen, or him. But just like at the airport the day before, she found herself unable to resist.

**Though at some point I will have to.**

**And make him face a thing or two.**

**What he said, what he does.**

"Are you alright? You seem preoccupied."

The Italian restaurant was a very tiny place but intimate enough. Sat by the window, she observed the passers-by in the street with a heavy silence. Not touching her glass of wine.

"The clinic called me."

It took him aback and a bit distressed she stared at his hand dropping her on the red tablecloth by an old candle nobody had lit up yet. She hated when they broke contact, when the heat of his skin went away from hers. She felt lonely by then, and cold.

"What do they want? Is there something wrong?"

The waiter brought their plates but she didn't move and stared instead at the pasta. She wouldn't admit it but she was scared. About the call, about Stanley; Grace and Jack as well. About everything and all of a sudden life seemed too heavy to ever pursue it.

"I don't know... I just wish it could end up once and for all now."

She passed a hand through her hair and shook her head, frowning at the tears that were fighting a way up her hazel gaze. She missed Scotland. Her life didn't seem safer there but the distance with her past was nonetheless more important. Manhattan was suffocating, oppressive and dark. No mattered she had always lived there and considered the city as the real place where she felt fine. Everything had changed suddenly and she didn't know how to deal with that.

"Look at me."

His fingers had found hers back but the contact wasn't warm enough. She needed his arms, no mattered it was in public and in the heart of Manhattan. She was too cold to care, too confused and scared.

"Karen... Look at me, please."

She looked up at him, on the other side of the table. Will was smiling, peacefully enough even though his attempt to sound reassuring didn't work that much because he seemed as scared and exhausted as she was. But he bent over and planted a light kiss on her lips with such delicacy that for a tiny second, Karen believed that life could actually be easy.


	15. The Men In My Life

**Chapter fourteen – The Men In My Life**

He didn't say "I love you" all the time, on the contrary. The words came up every now and then as if following the scheme of some precious rarity. But it gave sense to them, and strength. She might have idealized her relation to men at some point in her life, it was over now and what Will kept on bringing her owned a distinctive connotation. Not less abrupt or harsh but realistic, and secure. Perhaps that was what people tended to define as the perfect alliance. Except in their case, they had to deal with lies and secrets.

As he locked his eyes with her hazel ones, she couldn't help but smile. Instinctively. It reminded her of a time when timidity used to take advantage of every single one of her acts. Her lack of self-confidence had betrayed a large number of her intentions and for years she had preferred thus to remain quiet, apart. By then she had mostly observed the world, built her own opinion on a thousand different subjects and if it hadn't been for her mother, she would have remained passive. Because it was easier, not that risky.

"Would you..."

His question got stopped halfway as Jack entered the apartment along with Grace. All of a sudden they forgot about timidity, long gazes and smiles. It was automatic now, almost too easy to go from a very intimate face-to-face to a public conversation with friends. It didn't hurt that much but nonetheless did nourish some frustration.

**It is the price to pay.**

**If you don't like it then go away.**

**Or assume everything.**

She hadn't arrived soon enough so they could talk. About them, about her appointment at the clinic in the morning and what the doctor had said after what had seemed like an eternal wait. She had kept it all for herself, all day long and now that the moon had swept away the sun in the sky of Manhattan, it was becoming heavy on her mind, upon her shoulders. She needed to talk to Will. She needed to tell him a lot of things.

But instead Jack was there. From all the men she had known, he was the only one who had accepted in a whirl of seconds to be her friend. Their game of seduction was light and so deprived of seriousness it brought a lot of sweetness to her odd existence. She owed him most of her smiles previous to her affair with Will. Most of memories she didn't want to see fade away from her mind.

"It is not a matter of infidelity but love."

Will's words resounded loud in the living-room. Instinctively, she turned around and stared at him. Her heart was beating fast, pounding loud in her chest. Jack looked also taken aback but on a lighter note. They had been fooling around, not paying attention to their friends who were conversing in the kitchen. Until this moment, when the notions of infidelity and love found themselves used in the same sentence.

"In this case you have to put an end to your official relationship, to your marriage. Or else, you are still cheating on someone."

"But cheating for good reasons."

"There are never good reasons!"

Grace scoffed before pouring herself a glass of wine. She looked angry but most of all, terribly lonely. For whatever reason. If everyone had pretended to go back to the old routine since they had come back from Scotland, something had nonetheless changed. An invisible aspect of their lives that weighed a lot at the end.

"What are you guys talking about? Have you cheated on your wife, Wilma?"

Perhaps she shouldn't have come up with such comment but it was exactly what Jack and Grace were expecting from her. She couldn't say that she had got trapped in her own nets but somehow, she didn't have a chance to put an end to her constant bashing on Will. It would have sounded strange and really unjustified to her friends' eyes.

Will was a dual man. The strength he used in public barely showed in private. A bit like her if she had to be honest. The duality of her temper found a resonance in his. A sort of understanding.

**Not that it will make a difference.**

**As long as we remain in the shadows.**

**Where we belong.**

"_The Bridges of Madison County_. We are talking about the movie. It was aired last night. Grace and I watched it but apparently we disagree now on the protagonist's choices."

At some point in her life, she had adored this movie and used to watch it every since and then. It was before she started her affair with Will. Such story tended to leave a bitter taste on her mind now. Way too close to reality, somehow.

She had slept with every single man she had met but Jack. Most of them had made the first step in a bare, cold game of purely sexual seduction. They had wanted her for a night, eventually for a few years when realizing that she wasn't stupid. This is how she had got married, three times. When none of these unions had actually worked out. And then had come Will. She had gone to him, had lusted for him but would have never imagined that she wouldn't be able to, at some point, live without him.

She went back to her mansion late in the evening without having had a chance to properly talk to Will. Once she would have stayed and waited patiently for her friends to go to bed. She would have let him kiss her, take her hand and lead her to his bedroom before leaving on her tiptoes in the first hours of the morning. But things had changed.

She didn't notice the paper on her pillow immediately. She firstly undressed, changed for the night and removed her makeup. It is only when she approached her bed that she finally spotted it, sagely waiting on the expensive sheet. Intrigued, she grabbed it and sat on the edge of the mattress to read it.

_I want a divorce._

_Stanley_


	16. What You Deserve

**Chapter fifteen – What You Deserve**

She was getting old. In spite of dying her hair and getting injections of Botox every since and then, it seemed that the passing of time was nonetheless embracing her face. Perhaps she shouldn't try to fight the years back like that. Because it was in vain, anyway. Everything was vain, even before starting; like her marriage to Stanley. It had ceased such a long time ago that she wasn't even sure they had actually had a chance at some point, together. And now it was over.

She hated hotel rooms but life seemed to always send her back to one, with a cruel regularity as if she didn't have to forget a time when everything looked dark, just after her father had died. The concepts of home and family had got left behind on a very dusty path and from motels to five-star palaces, she had drawn a line under an eventual chance to have firm references.

"You will do just fine here."

For a few seconds she abandoned the contemplation of her reflection in a mirror and smiled politely at Jack. Things were exploding in a thousand pieces but she would be alright, one more time. How come people always expected her to be fine? She had the right to burst into tears, just like them. To spend an incredible amount of sleepless nighst in the loneliness of her life and say that no, things weren't okay.

**It is like a house of cards.**

**Too precarious to make it to the end.**

**That's why I should stop now.**

"Sure, honey. It is The Palace Hotel, who wouldn't do just fine here? Look at the view, and the bar."

Though she had already emptied a bottle of wine, pretending to do a thousand things around when she had barely made five steps in total. In search of a pack of cigarettes, her eyes stopped on a few papers she hadn't put yet with the rest of her administrative files.

The divorce papers. They had been signed in a hurry as if Stanley wanted nothing but to turn the page as soon as possible then forget to her existence. There might have been official circumstances, it was how she saw it at the end. And within two weeks her wedding band had lost all its meaning.

"Are you sure that you want to stay here tonight? Not that Will's picnic is the event of the year but then we will hit some bar..."

"Yes, I... I am kind of tired and need to have a bath, relax then... I don't know, have a cognac."

Jack didn't insist and left almost immediately after planting a kiss on her cheek. Sometimes she wished it were that easy. People would accept her words without never arguing. At least it didn't leave her in a state of complete exhaustion and she could go on, alone. She wished the same happened with Will but the announce of her divorce had broken down something between the two of them and reluctance to be with each other had grown, slowly.

They had argued, again. Perhaps it was only frustration from being involved in an affair but it was still there, oppressive enough on their day-to-day life. Under the given circumstances, they hadn't alluded a single time to her appointment at the clinic and now that she was alone in her hotel suite, she thought it might have been better that way after all. What would Will care, anyway?

**It wasn't a vivid dream.**

**Just an idea, a tiny one.**

**And why not with Will...**

To the sound of his name in her head, she grabbed a new bottle of wine then left for the bathroom. The view over Central Park was breathtaking, especially by night when all the buildings disappeared in a trail of diamonds glimmering through the dark. She undressed in silence then plunged in her bubble bath. The embrace was warm, secure. Just what she needed after two weeks of downfall and a terrible sentiment to not belong to this world anymore.

She had just poured herself a glass of wine when her cell phone rang by her side. Taking her time, she firstly took a sip of her drink then relaxed in the tub for a few seconds before grabbing the cellular. The envelope appeared in the middle of the screen, waiting to be open.

_You should be in my arms, right now._

_Will_

It began to boil in her lower stomach, soon enough passing through her veins then making it to a well too fragile heart. Her anger exploded, all of a sudden and without any warning. In a gesture full of a deep frustration, she threw the cell phone away. It crashed against the wall, then fell down on the floor in several pieces.

And then the tears, sliding down her cheeks slowly until she finally let go of everything and abdicated to an old pain that had never really disappeared. It wasn't relieving though. Instead it kept on burning her heart, making her feel dizzy. She took another glass of wine and watched by the large windows how the fireworks were lighting up The Upper West Side.

**This is all what you deserve perhaps at the end.**

**To be lonely, in the immensity of a suite.**

**With a broken heart, endless tears. **

**Happy Fourth of July, Karen.**


	17. Against all expectations

**Chapter sixteen – Against All Expectations**

The dress slid down her legs, caressed her ankles before landing in silence on the floor. She stepped out of it and moved closer to the bed in order to grab the linen pants she wanted to put on. The breeze coming from the window was cool against her skin, soft. Against all expectations, the summer wasn't very hot. As a matter of fact, everyone talked about a record of low temperatures and it reminded her of Scotland; all the heavy clouds in the sky, the uncertain rain.

She had just zipped her pants and was about to grab her cardigan when a hand brushed her waist, went to her lower stomach as lips planted a kiss on her shoulder. She didn't jump of surprise, barely shivered under the nonetheless unexpected contact but instead she bit her lower lip and frowned.

"Not now."

She sounded more annoyed than anything else and regretted the tone of her voice as soon as the words hit the air. He didn't stop though, on the contrary. As his hand went down her stomach to pass under the fabric of her pants, a boiling anger suddenly invaded her and without any warning, she turned around to slap Will. The sound of the palm of her hand hitting his cheek resounded loud in the suite and they both remained astonished for a few seconds before her unusual gesture.

"I told you not now."

She was being serious, in spite of the red that had run up her cheeks. Grabbing nervously her cardigan, she put it on and left the bedroom with embarrassment. Something seemed to prevent her relation with Will from working. If her divorce should have made her feel free, the exact opposite was happening. It was strange, and terribly frustrating.

"No, you aren't going to run away from it this time. Damn, Karen... Tell me what your problem is!"

She had headed to a coffee table in the living-room to pour herself a glass of vodka when she had felt his hold on her wrist. Firm, but soft enough as if to assure her that he would never hurt her. She looked up by the large windows at the skyline of Manhattan. The sun was sliding along the buildings, getting lost in a mirror game of reflections and warm perspectives. When she was cold in her suite.

**Why would we stop now?**

**We haven't done anything but this.**

**Running away, always.**

Exasperated, she finally turned around to face Will. She should have known better when he had said he would follow her to the suite instead of going to buy a bottle of wine with Grace and Jack at the deli for their evening. Obviously he would try to get to her then maybe clear up the reason why she had been so distant since moving out of The Upper East Side penthouse. And yet she had let him do, all along.

"You don't want to marry me."

Her confession surely took him aback and for long seconds Will remained still, trying to give sense to her words. Though it didn't work that much as he finally shook his head, perplexed.

"One day you say to Stanley that you don't want to marry me, the very next one you kiss me in front of everyone at the airport to tell me that you love me and... And... I don't know, it doesn't make sense. We don't make sense when together, apparently."

It made connections in his head when she saw a light vanish in his eyes, and his face turn livid. It didn't bring the slightest relief to her own heart though and she simply shrugged, looked down at her feet. She hated those face-to-face so much that perhaps it was the reason why she had married men like Stanley. They never asked for anything, even less explanations. Until the day they told you that you weren't that much required anymore and a divorce would settle down the end of your union.

"You overheard the... But what was I supposed to say to your husband? It was delicate and atrociously awkward. I didn't want to offend you or... But why, you want to marry me?"

He was incredulous and she couldn't blame him. At absolutely no moment she had made an allusion to such a possibility. They were having an affair, anyway. What kind of person could think about marriage in this situation?

"No... No, I don't. It is just that... I don't know but no, I don't want to marry you."

"Then what is it? What do you want, Karen? What do you expect from me? From you?"

She didn't like the way things were turning, how all of a sudden she was the one to be pointed out with a series of questions she dreaded more than anything. Instinctively she made a step backwards, another one.

"I don't know... I... I don't know... Build a home...?"

**With you, build a home with you.**

**And it would be perfect, every day.**

**Because it would be ours.**

Time seemed to get lost in an endless silence but just as she looked up at him and he opened his mouth to reply, the door of the suite flew open. Grace and Jack came in, bags in hand. They seemed happy, so light that while observing them Karen had to swallow back a wave of envy.

"You will never guess whom we saw at the deli buying peanut butter. Actually it has to be the event of the..."

Though Grace never had a chance to finish her sentence. She got stopped halfway by Will as he made the few steps separating him from Karen and kissed her deeply. The sudden gesture took Karen aback and as she almost fell down, his hand slid on her waist to hold her tight.

Perhaps she should have broken apart, pushed him away and pretended that nothing had happened. But she didn't, for whatever reason. And let him do. Against all expectations.


	18. Game Set And Match

**Chapter seventeen – Game, Set And Match**

Once upon a time, a little girl used to live in The Upper West Side. With her parents, her little sister and a cat she can't remember the name now. Most of people would find it weird but it is simply that she preferred to draw a line under everything at some point, thinking it would make it easier. She had a dog later on but this is another story, a darker one.

Just like any other child, this little girl loved dancing around. Mostly in her father's arms. She felt safe, there. And cared about. But one day while coming back from school, the world stopped to her eyes as the lights of an ambulance blinded her soul. Her father had died of a heart attack. For weeks she kept on putting music on, waiting for his arms. And then she understood, all by herself because nobody had taken time enough to explain anything, that he would never come back; no mattered she hadn't said goodbye.

So many things broke down, within a second. A family crashed in the indifference of Manhattan until a packing in the middle of the night, in a hurry, and they left for some unknown city. In the precipitation, the little girl forgot a rag doll that used to accompany her everywhere. Amy. They left the cat behind as well though this was well studied and planned.

The first nights spent in motels turned out to be fun. The novelty of it, probably. But after a while, the joyful colors faded away until the so-called family remained in pitch dark. For being the oldest, the girl began to assume a whole series of tasks but she wasn't ready for that. Lacking maturity. And when her sister was sleeping by her side, she closed her eyes and listened to her mother cry.

For years she reproached her everything. Time doesn't have healed but changed the perspectives even though she doesn't excuse her. She just understands what a broken heart causes, the pain it brings. It is not easy when you lose the only person on Earth who gave sense to everything. You just die along but without having the right to disappear.

Manipulation. The little girl grew up according to this only word. Because it was fundamental to not be left behind on the road. Life was tough, after all. If school could have turned into a sweet escape it only condemned her to this odd fate. And she had no friends, no references to stick to. No base. Besides, she didn't stay long enough somewhere. Plans don't always work out and if they do, you know it is better to pack and go.

At the age of sixteen, words led her out of the temporary house. She walked to a bar, lied about a few things and used the boss to get a job. She had run away from her mother but not from the methods. It paid off until she met someone. A man. Rich, old and probably desperately looking for the daughter he had never had. They married, more by convenience than anything else. He passed away a few months later, leaving her all his money.

But one more time she was too young and falling into the hands of some bad advices, she lost it all. At time she still thinks that life is that fragile and can tip over within a second but she hates it so much she convinces herself this is just lying. She made an adult movie and would have probably ended up in the street as a junkie if she hadn't met her second husband. Same pattern: businessman, old, desperately lonely. It is just that this time, she remained wise enough until he asked for a divorce. It hurt, not for the feelings she might have had for him but for the image she sent back when alone. She didn't like it.

Stanley came along on a rainy afternoon of October. He was young enough, had his own children and unfortunately was married as well. She still doesn't know why her eyes landed on him in the first place. Her heart? She wouldn't be able to say, it remains confusing. Ten years. It took her ten years to become his.

Their marriage was classic. Separate bedrooms, fake smiles in public appearances and an absence of communication that weighed a lot on her shoulders in spite of everything. One day he suggested her to have a job in order to chase monotony. She accepted, against all expectations. And it did change things. A lot. For the first time she got very close to some people, made friend with them if she dared to say it.

She doesn't know why she went for Will. It just happened. And before she realized anything, they were involved in an affair. She had never cheated on anyone, at absolutely no moment. From then on her life sped up its pace. She fell in love with him, got pregnant and aborted. The first child she was caring, the only one as she would learn later in the impersonal office of some clinic. A new divorce, doubts and all of a sudden her lover kisses her in front of everyone.

By everyone she means her friends, the real ones. She lets him do but at some point, they have to break apart. For a few seconds, she doesn't dare to look up and when she finally does, it is only to see Grace drop out a grocery bag on the floor before rushing out of the suite. Jack will follow after having shaken his head, a disgusted mock on his face. She remains there with Will, the man she loves but can't be with. She doesn't know what to do. What to say.

Game, set and match.

The girl is me, Karen. And I have just ruined everything.


	19. I Wish

**Chapter eighteen – I Wish**

She might have known the place by heart, its slightest corner and table, it still appeared under a new perspective suddenly. This had to be it. The moment everything would get solved because Grace would accept the truth, bare facts that had made it to the light three weeks earlier. From then on, her suite had remained desperately empty and quiet. Nobody had stopped by or called except Will a few times, a few nights as well. Then on a morning she had got an email, from Grace, requiring a face-to-face anywhere. For no particular reason, she had chosen the lounge of the hotel and prepared herself mentally until the day had arrived. It was only a matter of minutes now.

Every time she had tried to allude to the situation, Will had avoided it on purpose. Though he still lived with Grace and opposite Jack's apartment, still saw them both several times a day. Maybe even shared his meals with them as they all used to before everything occurred. His sudden silence was heavy and tough but unable to properly make a remark, Karen accepted and didn't insist.

It would be a matter of time. It had to, she knew it. And there she was now, sat at a table of the five-star hotel lounge waiting nervously for Grace. The place might not have allowed anyone to smoke, she still held a cigarette between her fingers while her other hand kept on playing clumsily with the pack. A bit further on the table was her lighter she had abandoned nonchalantly after a waiter's second remark but she had been unable to put the cigarette back in its pack once and for all. Perhaps she should have taken a pencil instead, to get her fingers busy meanwhile. But even if not lit up, the cigarette still released its subtle scent of nicotine that reassured her.

She had just ordered a third Martini when Grace entered the room, clutched to her leather bag with an odd determination. Hand in the air, Karen waved at her friend then sat up on the armchair.

**Here we are. **

**Don't mess up anything.**

**This is your second chance, the last one.**

**You know it.**

"Hi, Gracie..."

"Good morning."

Her familiarity didn't find any resonance in Grace's very formal tone of voice and choice of words and as she observed her friend settle down in front of her, Karen felt her heart speed up a little. Perhaps it wouldn't be as easy as she had thought in the first place. Perhaps nothing had been won yet, nothing at all. Hiding herself behind her Martini, her eyes went from her friend's face to her hands that took out of a bag a few papers. Grace slid them towards her, along with a pen.

"Sign this."

"What is it?"

Perplexed and curious, Karen put back her glass on the table and grabbed the papers instead. They had been designed a few hours earlier following the law, referring to various articles of different codes.

"You are fired, I need your signature at the bottom of these two pages. The other one is an agreement so you accept to leave the city."

It hadn't crossed her mind that the situation, instead of improving, could actually worsen and there she was before it. Lost, confused. An instinctive laugh full of perplexity escaped from her lips. She shook her head at Grace, frowned. It was getting ridiculous, too painful.

"You can't oblige me to leave New York!"

"No, indeed. I can't. But if you have a semblance of a conscience then you will. Because you have not a single thing to do here anymore. You came into our lives and screwed everything."

"What about Will? Do you really think that by taking me away from him, things will go better between the two of you?"

"You are nothing but a quick fuck to him. Don't tell me that you believe there is something more. You are not an idiot. Just extremely manipulative."

"I haven't raped him. You are the one who needs to wake up in this story, Grace. And maybe accept the fact your best friend, as much as he usually prefers men, is actually into a relationship with me."

Her self-esteem had been touched and instinctively she had felt the urge to defend it against attacks she didn't see as fair ones. Of course she should have used diplomacy instead of entering Grace's game but she had fallen in her friend's trap within a second.

"Oh and then what? You two are going to get married? You plan on moving together? You want to carry his children and assume maternity? Please, be honest and realistic for once."

At the mention of motherhood, Karen put an instinctive hand over her stomach and tried to push back memories of her abortion. Like the smell of disinfectant in the clinic bedroom, nurses' steps on the floor. The cramps. The sentiment of emptiness that had inhabited her for so long after it.

Then there had been the doctor's speech, announcing her that because of some complications she would not be able to have children. They had just noticed it through her last blood sample. Sterility. She hadn't even had time to tell Will about it.

"No, indeed."

Grace was right. They weren't a couple and would never be one. Perhaps at some point she had held a few hopes over it but it was over now, had been reduced to ashes since she had aborted. What they had was a poor, shameful affair. Not a love story.

"See? Then you should sign these and accept the truth as it is. Then go away from our life. You are not worth it."

For a few seconds Karen observed the lounge, disarmed. This was not how it had to end, forgotten and left behind in the anonymity of some hotel in the heart of Manhattan. Embarrassment and shame, not a single ounce of happiness.


	20. Back To The Beginning

**Chapter nineteen – Back To The Beginning**

Rain drops were embracing her face, slowly sliding along her cheeks before coming to disappear in the depth of her neck. She had got used to it, even to the point of missing the sensation when the clouds didn't make it to the sky properly. Besides, it matched the melancholy that hadn't left her since the very beginning. An odd companion of misfortune that she dragged around in silence.

She had tried to forget, to turn the page and start it all over again but her thoughts always came back to New York at the end. In spite of the distance, and the months. It didn't have to do with determination or strength. It went beyond, like her loneliness and the constant pain on her chest she hid behind a wave of timid smiles whenever she crossed someone. Though it was all vain, she knew it.

She passed the doors of the pub and let the heat of the place wrap her up. The fireplace was on, lighting up the old leather armchairs that had been abandoned by the flames. She had spent more evenings there than she could remember, alone in a corner looking by the window at the dark sky of Edinburgh. Until she had become one of them, the few regulars whose life had been reduced once to the bar. If she had observed them in the distance for a long time, taking pity on their poor routine, she had finally realized that they were all alike. Just like the members of an odd family.

"How is my little K. doing?"

She might have been feeling immensely lonely, her pain seemed to heal for a while as soon as she went to the pub and spent time with these strangers she now considered as her friends. They never met at any other place, never made an allusion to their existence outside of the pub. As if they didn't need to.

"Hi, Jo... How are you?"

"Someone is looking for you. She is there, just behind."

Her genuine smile vanished in a mock of perplexity before the pub owner's words. Following Jo's hand, she turned her head around and remained bare. Astonished. At one of the empty tables by the television set was sat Grace, playing nervously with her pint. She hadn't changed except for the light in her eyes, a tiny flame was burning there now.

Trying to ignore how her past was catching her back at a place she wanted to keep neutral and deprived of any harsh memory, Karen made a few steps to the table then grabbed a stool to settle there. It hurt to see Grace. It burnt deep inside.

"It has been a year..."

"You asked me to leave. I did. I even moved to another continent. What are you doing here?"

It wasn't that she wanted to be harsh but the words came out that way around, naturally. Grace smiled a bit timidly but it didn't change the slightest thing. Behind the pain was boiling an old anger she had not found a way to get rid of properly.

"I know and I should have never done such a thing. I am deeply sorry, Karen. I really am. I... I was not allowed to do that to you, to Will. It wasn't fair at all."

"He didn't try to reach me either so perhaps you weren't very wrong when telling me how I didn't count that much for him."

"I told him that you had left with someone else."

An invisible strength began to press on her heart and she swallowed back a wave of tears. For months she had hoped that he would come to Scotland, guess where she was and that just like in the movies, he would plead her to spend the rest of her life with him. But nobody had knocked on the door of her flat. Nobody had shouted her name in the middle of the street. Nobody.

"I am getting married. Here, in Edinburgh. Leo... It is his name, has a large part of his family living in Scotland that's why we settled the wedding here. I know it might look terribly selfish but now I am not alone anymore, now that I have found the right person... I should have never asked you to leave. Will... He has been feeling miserable since then and as much as the idea of the two of you together seems odd to me, I am not allowed to ruin it. I met Stanley by accident a few weeks ago. He told me that you were here. I didn't know that you had kept in touch with him. But my wedding in Edinburgh and you being here... It was supposed to be."

"Where is he? Where is Will?"

Words were bumping onto each other in her head, melting into a confusion of senses. Something was happening and she couldn't understand properly. She had lost Will, accepted so and buried her dreams to ever build a home with him. For Grace, for Jack. For a friendship that even if not mutual anymore still had a lot of importance in her heart. Too much to ever destroy it entirely. That was why she had left one morning.

"There... On the other side of the room."

At the table he had found her a year and a half earlier when she had drowned her despair in beers and a couple of silent sobs. He had appeared from nowhere only to mean everything again. And the story was getting repeated, unexpectedly.

The world stopped turning or at least it did, in her head, as she went for him. Her heart was beating too loud against her chest and it made her feel dizzy. But she couldn't care less, suddenly. A year she had tried to forget him, the softness of his hands and the delicacy of his features. But nothing had vanished, on the contrary. Vivid images had torn out her nights and burnt down her days.

"I can't have children anymore... I lost our baby. The abortion... I missed out our single opportunity."

In a perfect world, she would have chosen other words but nothing else slid on her lips as she made it to the table and locked her eyes with his. She sat down by his side, waited for a reaction. She had really missed him. Desperately missed him.

Will never replied but bent over instead to capture her lips in a long awaited kiss. Just as she was dying for when he had passed the doors of the pub a year and a half before. It had always been him. Since the very beginning.


End file.
